


And Wishing on the Stars

by mistyautumn



Category: Defiance (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:07:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24863566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mistyautumn/pseuds/mistyautumn
Summary: While he and Christie are captive, Alak wishes a lot of things.
Relationships: Christie McCawley/Alak Tarr
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	And Wishing on the Stars

**Author's Note:**

> A little something for winterskywrites. Thanks for everything. <3

_(There’s a song- an old one- about walking in the rain.)_

Alak likes the rain. Not razor rain, but this kind. The chains come off for a little while and he stands out in it and finally feels some semblance of _clean_. It’s the closest thing to a proper bath he gets anymore, and something like relaxing in spite of the rifle trained on him. The cold water makes him feel awake; reminds him he’s still alive… He runs his fingers through his hair, and tries to work out mattes; wipe away the sense of grime and grease; turns his face up towards the clouds and closes his eyes, letting the torrents wash over him. 

_(and wishing on the stars…)  
_

He wishes Christie could stand in it with him; Pilar doesn’t allow that. When it’s his turn, she holds Luke, and Quentin holds the rifle, and Christie watches from the window, wrapped in an old robe that’s seen better days… she always goes first- goes fast, so Alak can linger. She’s the one who suggested this, the first time there was a proper rainfall. Castis and bathing… she may not understand everything about his culture, but she knows a gunpoint bath from a bucket every few days is a special kind of torture for him. 

He wishes he could sleep at night- _really_ sleep- but he doesn’t know if he’ll ever get used to being handcuffed to a bed. Luke is in Pilar’s room, and he and Christie are locked in another; Pilar says it’s gracious privacy, but Christie’s still got the chain around her ankle, and Alak the cuff… She still snuggles close, and he holds her as best he can with his free arm, and some nights they cry, and others they don’t. Sometimes they whisper sweet things in Casti, while others they mutter escape plots. There’s no real hope for escape anymore; it’s faded as the months have passed. 

He wishes for home; to go home with her, and Luke; to leave this far behind.

_(and being so in love…)_

“You smell nice.” She murmurs as she nestles against him. Alak makes a noise somewhere between mirth and moan.

“I think your standards for that have been significantly lowered…”

“I like when you smell like the rain.” She nuzzles in under his chin, one hand combing through his still damp hair. His thumb brushes her shoulder lightly, he closes his eyes, and for a moment- just a moment- they could be back in Defiance, safe and sound. They could be _home_. The cuff cuts into his wrist and he sighs softly… _Christie_ is home, but it’s not supposed to be like this…

“I’m sorry…” She whispers, and he hears her breath hitch. Shifting as best as he can to gather her closer, he hushes her gently. “I was so, so wrong…” 

“You just wanted to trust your mom…” Alak murmurs. He’s sorry too, that he’s failed to protect his family. “You didn’t know she’s sick.” He tries not to hate Pilar. He fails at that, too. 

But he loves Christie. 

And he loves Luke.

And he whispers that again and again; in English, in Casti; a steady rhythm that lulls them to sleep… 

He dreams of all that he wishes; of freedom… of walking away from this place with Christie and Luke… and of rain washing it all away.


End file.
